Doragon Hitogoroshi Kazoku
by FallenAngelPTVBVBSWS11
Summary: What if things were different? What if the children of the dragons grew up together? How could that have changed things? And what if they were separated? What if some unseen challenge throws them apart? The story of Fairy Tail retold with many new twists and turns for our favorite slayers. Will they ever catch a break? It's not likely.


It had begun, as most things seem to, with Natsu Dragneel. The boy was at the tender age of seven. Curious would be an appropriate adjective to describe him. Natsu was a bubbly child. He could laugh at the smallest things but he also held quite the temper. Luckily nobody was around for him to unleash it on.

Natsu couldn't remember anything about his past. All he knew, was that one day he woke up in a field alone. Since then he'd been wondering around; trying to find somewhere to fit in. He lived a rather sad life so far. Natsu couldn't remember ever seeing another human. Somehow, he knew his name was Natsu, but that's where his memory of the past ended. He hasn't been this way for very long. The child figured it had only been a few months.

One day everything changed. Natsu was once again wondering around. He was climbing what he assumed to be was a very tall hill. It was actually a volcano. He had been climbing it for nearly a week now and couldn't wait to see what was at the summit. The little boy had been coming up with ideas, each more absurd than the last: everything from a large lake to a different dimension.

Small stubby fingers grasped the edge and the little boy hauled himself up. Natsu gasped in wonder. Warm orange liquid filled a giant hole. He bounced on his toes. _'Cool, it's like a lake, but a magical one,'_ Natsu thought.

He took a deep breath before jumping in. The liquid was hot, not burning- nothing felt burning hot to Natsu- but still warmer than usual. It was thick, much thicker than normal water. When he ducked under he couldn't see a thing.

Then and there, Natsu decided he was going to stay a while. This could now be his new home. It was awesome! Besides, who else could say they swam in a magical lake? Once he finally met new people, because he was sure he wasn't the only one, Natsu was going to have serious bragging rights.

The pink-haired-child played in the lava for nearly an hour. He was doggy-paddling, splashing, diving, basically anything you could think of. That's when the dragon showed up. It was a rusty red behemoth. On its underbelly, there was a yellowish cream color. It had multiple scars along its wings and face. Sharp talons were on the end of each foot, and its tail wrapped around its back legs. The creature must have been at least twenty-feet tall. Natsu was amazed.

"Wow! A dragon!" he exclaimed.

"How'd you get in here, kid?" the dragon asked. It can talk!

"I climbed."

The dragon laughed. "You are an odd creature, young human."

"Wha'? Why's that?"

"You are the only human I have ever seen in a volcano, for one thing."

"What's a volcano?"

"The thing you are swimming it! Anyway, we are getting off track. Where are your parents? They should not be leaving someone as young as you are alone."

"I don't know. I've been wondering around for a while now. I can't remember anything."

"That is unfortunate."

Both creature and human lapsed into silence. Neither knew what to say. One because he lacked experience talking to anyone, let alone a dragon, and the other because he felt bad about making the child upset.

"Where do you live boy?" the dragon asked to end the awkward silence.

"Here!" Natsu exclaimed excitedly.

"You cannot live in a volcano, child."

"Eh, stop calling me boy, and kid, and child. The name's Natsu! And why not?"

"Many reasons, Natsu. Children need stability; a home. They need people to take care on them and be there for them. Anyway, you are starting to burn."

Natsu let out a yelp, as if only just realizing this fact, and scurried to the edge of the pit. What he didn't realize though, was that it was much taller than he first assumed, and he couldn't reach the top. The dragon lifted one of his giant hands, scooped Natsu up, and helped him sit on the edge.

"I don't have any of those things. I've been alone as long as I can remember."

The dragon had a look on its face. It looked like he was thinking about something; something important. "You are coming with me."

Natsu made a bizarre squawking noise. "Eh, you can't just take me with you!"

"I do not see any better options for you. And anyway, you have a talent involving heat. I can train you to become a Fire-Dragon-Slayer."

"What's that?"

"It is a type of mage; an extremely powerful one."

"I'll come with you, but you have to answer something for me first."

"What is it?"

"What's your name?"

The dragon laughed again. "I am Igneel, King of the Fire-Dragons."

"Wow! You're a king! Okay, I'll go with you."

Igneel nodded and gave Natsu a smile. "Get on my back and I will fly us to my cave."

With a wide-eyed look, the seven-year-old leaped off the edge of the volcano and landed on the huge scaly back. He felt the dragon rumble with another laugh. Scurrying up Igneel's back. Natsu made sure he had something to hold on to. Powerful beats by giant wings lifted to two into the air.

Squeals left the young boys lips. Natsu had never, that he remembered anyway, seen anything this cool. In no time at all, they were high in the clouds. A giant grin stayed plastered to the little boy's face for the rest of the journey.

He was fed up; done. How dare the old man kick his dad out of the guild? All day every day, Makarov preached about family and forgiveness. He's such a hypocrite! The first chance he gone dad was gone. Laxus didn't plan to stick around long enough to be next. He was leaving, packing up the most important items he owned, and booking it. Going after his old man wouldn't be an option. Ivan Dreyar was long gone by now. Laxus had never been high up on his dad's priorities list. Laxus was well aware of this fact. He held no illusions that Ivan truly loved him. Laxus was merely Ivan's favorite pawn to use against Makarov. That's why the ten-year-old was going out on his own. Without turning back, the young S-Class mage left the only home he ever knew.

Laxus quickly discovered two things. The first was that Magnolia was much bigger than he had ever known, and the second was that he was unmistakably lost. There were trees, lots of trees, and birds. Dusk had fallen around an hour ago. For all Laxus knew, he could have been going in circles. Until now, Laxus was unaware that the forest outside of Magnolia was so dense. The dark sky was nearly unviewable. Trees so lush, so thick and full of leaves, basically brushed the sky. Feelings of hopelessness, being lonely and off track, settled in. Laxus longed for his home. He wanted to go back and warm up with a hot bowl of soup. Mavis, it was cold out here.

After around twenty more minutes of walking, he came to a clearing. The trees had parted to showcase the sky. A full moon and thousands of stars gleamed down at him. Laxus flopped down onto the grass. This seem as good of a place as any to set up camp for the night. A sleeping bag and blanket were the only things he managed to fit in his backpack for rest, but for tonight they would suffice.

Laxus was only able to sleep for roughly three hours until the strangest thing he'd ever seen happened. A dragon. There was a dragon only five feet away from him. A giant white dragon. The creature must've been about fifteen-feet long. It had not only scales, but also long white feathers. Each wing had a claw in the center. Laxus had read stories about dragons and he could honestly say that the stories don't do the creatures justice.

A yelp Laxus wasn't ashamed to admit he made left his lips, and he scrambled backwards. Sadly, he got tangled in his sleeping bag and barely made it a few paces. He gazed up at the creature, fear in his large blue eyes. Laxus didn't move, he barely even breathed, as he waited for it to make the first move.

"Where are your parents, young one?" the dragon, a female by the baritone of her voice, asked. Apparently, dragons can talk. That's something the stories left out.

Trying to put up a brave front, Laxus scoffed. "I don't need anyone but myself."

The dragon huffed like a disapproving mother. "Everyone needs someone, child."

"Not me. I'm better off on my own."

Her large white feathered head shook back and forth. "Don't be foolish. My name is Grandine and I am the Sky-Dragon. What is your name?"

"Laxus." He didn't give her his last name and she didn't ask for it.

"It is nice to meet you, Laxus. Now, why is it you think you are better off on your own?"

He wasn't sure why he answered. Laxus was never interested in talking about his feelings. He chalked it up to the fact it was a _dragon_ asking. "My grandfather kicked my dad out of the guild. The old man probably deserved it, but I'm not sticking around long enough to be next."

Grandine hummed like a concerned mother and looked down at him. "I may not know much about humans, but I do know that they all need someone to be there for them. Especially someone as young as you. The way I see it you have two options: first, you can go back to your grandfather and apologize for leaving or second, I could follow in Ingeel's probably foolish footsteps, and you can come with me."

Laxus probably looked like a gaping idiot. A dragon, _a dragon,_ offered for him to live with her. It was truly mindboggling. He'd never even known dragons existed and now one was offering to share her life with him.

"Why? Why would you want me to come with you?"

"I see something special in you, young one. If you do this, run away and seclude yourself, then that spark would be for naught."

Laxus cocked an eyebrow. Something special. He can't remember the last time someone said that to him.

He took another moment, silently weighing his options, before coming to a conclusion. "Okay. Okay I will come with you."

Grandine looked shocked for a moment, which made him crack a small smile, and then she smiled. Dragons looked odd when they smiled. Laxus wasn't bothered by the bizarre expression. He secretly liked it. "Pack up your things and then climb onto my back. We will be going to where the others are gathered."

"How many others are there?" Laxus asked while shoving his sleeping bag back into his backpack.

"There is myself, Igneel, Metalicana, Skiadrum, and Weisslogia. We are the last five true dragons alive."

"If you're the Sky-Dragon, what are they?"

"Igneel is the Fire-Dragon King. Metalicana is the Iron-Dragon. Skiadrum is the Shadow-Dragon. And Weisslogia is the White-Dragon."

Laxus nodded to himself and threw his backpack over one shoulder. Grandine dipped a wing and he climbed on to it. She lifted it, which gently deposited Laxus on her broad back. He took two fistfuls of her long white feathers without having to be prompted. His grip wasn't tight enough to be painful, but it would keep him securely on.

Only three powerful beats of her wings were necessary to lift them into the air. Once again, the ten-year-old looked towards the stars. Instead of loneliness he felt hope. Maybe this could be the start of something good.

Gajeel Redfox practically flew through the streets. Upset vendors were tailing him, screaming swears and calling for the police. "Gihi," the nine-year-old laughed his signature laugh as he ran.

He'd been stealing for just over a year now. It was the only way he could get food. A year and a half ago his father got rid of him. The old man decided that Gajeel wasn't worth the trouble he brought. Trouble was an overstatement. Gajeel never acted out. He helped with his younger siblings, worked for hours a day, and basically never acted his age.

His old man tried to go after him with a knife one night in a fit of drunken rage, Gajeel defended himself, and then he ran. Both his siblings, little Mazie and Tyson, had been killed by their father before he could protect them.

At first, Gajeel had been a terrible street rat. He wasn't quick enough to grab things without getting caught. Many times, the police would arrive in time to try and arrest him. He'd slip away or get beat up. Quickly, Gajeel learned how to be sneaky. He discovered with types of people were the easiest marks, what stands were the best to grab from, and which types of food were the most filling and kept the longest. Gajeel toughened up. He'd always been a strong kid but now he was resilient. He hardened his heart to the point where other people couldn't get to him. Their words, their actions, no longer bothered him.

"Get back here you damn runt!" his favorite mark screamed.

Gajeel turned so he was running backwards to face the red-faced pissed elderly man. "Gihi!"

The man grunted angrily and threw something at Gajeel. For the first time in the two months Gajeel had been targeting this particular vendor, the large stone hit its mark. It pegged him in the shoulder. He stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and went down hard. The vendor, other vendors he's pissed off, and the police advanced on him. Many of them grabbed sticks or rocks and began to throw them at him. Gajeel curled in on himself. He wrapped his arms around his head and tried to protect all vital areas from the vicious attacks. Many of the people were terrible shots. Only about every fifth projectile hit its mark. Mainly they were the ones thrown at close range.

A deafening noise most people would chalk up as a thunder clap boomed overhead. It was without a doubt the loudest sound the nine-year-old had ever heard. Nearly everyone fled to the safety awnings and indoors provided from the suspected rain. An enormous dark form blocked the sun. Gajeel looked up, and then took a moment to think it was strange people never bother to look up, because there was a fucking dragon in the sky. The beast was at least twenty-feet long. Its scales appeared metallic. The whole thing looked like metal. Gajeel couldn't even tell if the damn thing was living, or if it was just some metal monster.

"You look like you just swallowed rust," he, the dragon, growled out.

Gajeel may not have known exactly what it meant; he could tell it was an insult, though. "So do you!"

The dragon started laughing. "You got spunk, kid. What'd you do to piss off all those humans?"

"What's it to you?" Gajeel asked as he started standing up. His new cuts and bruises protested painfully and he sank one of his sharper-than-usual teeth into his lip.

"Nothing, I'm just bored and tired of hearing Whitey and Fire-Breath's brats fighting all day."

Gajeel cocked a heavily pierced eyebrow in confusion. "Who?"

"Eh, we're getting off track. Why're those humans beating on you?"

"They don't seem to like it when I take their shitty food off their hands." Gajeel smirked, somewhat proud of himself, and the dragon laughed again.

"I like you, kid. You're an unusual pipsqueak."

Gajeel glared darkly. "Who're you calling pipsqueak? The only reason I seem small is because you're fucking huge!"

The dragon snorted. "What's your name, kid?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"So I don't have to keep calling you kid. My name's Metalicana and I'm the Iron-Dragon."

"Gajeel, and I eat iron for breakfast." He said that to seem tough. It was true, though. Usually Gajeel would eat some iron or other type of metal as a meal. He loved the taste, the texture, and how powerful he felt afterwards.

Metalicana suddenly looked much more interested in Gajeel. "You can eat metal, huh. Well, can you do anything else with it?"

Gajeel snorted. "Couple of times been able to turn a few fingers into iron for a minute."

Metalicana nodded. "Okay you're coming with me."

Gajeel was speechless for a moment. "Eh, the fuck makes you think that I'd go with you!" he exclaimed angrily once he got his voice back.

"What, you'd rather stay here?"

Well, he had a point. "Say I come with you, where'd we go?"

"There's a place about a day's flight away. It's where me and the others live. We'd go there."

"How many others?"

"Four dragons and two humans."

Gajeel nodded, digesting the information. "Okay," he decided, "I'll go with you."

Metalicana smirked, and looked fucking weird doing it, before plucking Gajeel up by the scruff of his shirt. Gajeel felt the cool metal of Metalicana's talons brush his bare neck and then he was deposited onto the dragon's back. Gajeel wasn't quite sure how he'd hold on while they were in flight. Metalicana was a surprisingly smooth beast. Apparently, that wasn't a problem. Metalicana was a cautious enough flier and Gajeel wound his arms around part of the dragon's neck.

Wind buffeted his exposed skin and the sun beat down upon him, and Gajeel knew he'd never felt more alive.

The two-and-a-half-year-old and yes, the half was very important, boy heard the little one-year-old crying across the street. It happened every night. Rogue's daddy was mean to him, sort of like how Sting's is to him, but different. Sting's daddy says a lot of mean things and calls him bad names. Sometimes he doesn't even remember Sting's around. Rogue's daddy hurts him in other ways. He hits him and kicks him. He likes to hurt Rogue even though Rogue never did anything bad.

Rogue's Sting's best friend. Even though he was a whole year-and-a-half younger -that was a _long_ time- he was still Sting's favorite person. Rogue didn't talk much, he didn't know many words, but he was a great listener. They'd sit around, or run in Sting's case, for hours a day. They even have their own secret language. Sting can almost hear Rogue talking in his head. It's like they can read each other's minds. Sting had never been as close to anyone as he was to Rogue. Not even his parents. Rogue's the most important person to Sting; his everything. Sting likes to think he means just as much to Rogue.

It was too much for the young boy. His best friend was now screaming. Not only screaming, it was worse than that. Sting didn't know what word would describe that sound but he knew he never wanted to hear it again. Especially not from Rogue.

With night as a cover, the light little boy ran outside. He went across the street to Rogue's house. Rogue was still making that noise and it was louder up close. Sting used the power his daddy gave him to make him stronger than anyone else, and broke open the door. The tiny house was nasty. Empty gross smelling bottles were on the table and chairs. Trash was all over the floor. Blood and vomit was splattered across the back wall. Even more blood made a pathway to the center of the room. Rogue's daddy stood over the tiny boy, a broken bottle held in one meaty fist, and he was screaming mean things at Rogue. Rogue, poor sweet Rogue, was curled up in the littlest ball possible. Tons of cuts covered his arms and legs. There were lots of bruises along his arms, legs, back, chest, neck, and face. Sting wasn't sure how his best friend was alive. Those little dark shapes Rogue could sometimes control were moving around him. It almost looked like they were trying to keep him safe. It wasn't enough, though.

"Ge' 'way from Rogue!" Sting screamed. Sting shot a beam of pure white energy at Rogue's surprised dad and he went flying backwards and hit his head on the edge of the table.

"'Ting?" Rogue whispered weakly.

"I here, Rogue."

Sting kept one eye on Rogue's dad as he ran to Rogue's side. The man hadn't moved yet but he was starting to groan. Sting got to Rogue and carefully poked him. "Can you move?"

"Uh uh." Sting poked his chin in thought. He needed to get Rogue out of there. If he didn't, Rogue's daddy would kill them both.

After thinking for another moment, Sting had a plan. "Otay, we're 'eaving no'. I need you to lay on 'our back."

Rogue did, barely, and Sting shot another beam of white at his dad before crouching down. Rogue weakly put his arms around Sting's neck, and Sting stood back up. He held on tight to Rogue's legs and left the house.

It was harder than Sting thought it would be to carry Rogue. He wasn't heavy, not at all which scared Sting a bit, but it still wasn't easy. Rogue was crying, luckily not _that sound_ , but hearing him cry was terrible. "I keep you safe. You be otay Rogue." Rogue rested his head on Sting's neck in response and he understood. Rogue was still scared but he trusted Sting to keep him safe.

Sting walked for what felt like forever. He didn't know where he was going, how to get out of this town, or who could help them. All he knew was that he had to get them as far away as possible. Without his permission, Sting began to drag his feet. He was tired, so very tired, and Rogue was warm against his back.

Only five minutes later, Sting stopped. They were by a river or lake, he could never tell the difference. It didn't really matter, anyway. Sting crouched down and helped slide Rogue off his back. Rogue curled up and Sting turned around. He gently pulled Rogue into a hug and the younger boy hugged him back.

Rogue looked at Sting. One of his ruby eyes was swollen shut but tears still managed to leak through. He had a big pout on his pink lips. The lower left side had a long cut that was leaking blood. Scratches lined up and down his arms and legs ranging in size and depth. His little feet had pieces of broken glass in them. His pale little arms and legs, because even though it's cold outside Rogue was only in a tee-shirt and shorts, were coated in black and blue marks. Sting took off his own jacket and draped it over Rogue. Somehow, Rogue curled even smaller and huddled into the new warmth.

Sting pulled Rogue into a gentle hug and rocked them back and forth. Rogue sagged against him and let out a shaky breath. The pair stayed like that for who knows how long until Sting tensed up and dramatically tightened his grip. Rogue whined in pain and Sting slightly loosed his arms. He had seen something over Rogue's shoulders. Something terrifying. It looked like a shadow, except darker. It rose from the ground to hover over their heads. It was huge, bigger than both Sting and Rogue's houses combined. Loud angry snarling noises were coming from it. Rogue whimpered and tried to hide himself.

"Skiadrum!" A loud male voice shouted from the sky. Sting looked up and saw that above the scary dark shape there was an even bigger light one.

"Do not 'Skiadrum' me, Weisslogia. Those children are insufferable."

The white form shifted until it became a _dragon_. The dark one did the same thing and then somehow there were two dragons flying above the boys

"I'm not disagreeing with you. Just wait for me next time before you storm out. And quit growling, you're scaring those babies."

Both dragons looked down at the cowering duo. Sting had nearly curled his entire body over Rogue's in an effort to protect him. Rogue was basically vibrating from shaking so hard. Fat tears dribbled down both cheeks and he was biting his lip as hard as possible to avoid making a sound.

"Don't be afraid, babies. He's basically harmless. What are you two doing out here so late?"

Sting tried to puff up. He wanted to seem more intimidating. "We run away 'rom home."

Weisslogia's big head turned to face them fully and he smiled. "They're so cute! Look Skiadrum! He can't even pronounce things properly yet."

Skiadrum rolled his giant eyes. Sting glared up at the two beasts. "I not cute! He cute." Rogue lightly pinched Sting's side.

"Why'd you both leave?"

Rogue's daddy hurts 'im. He hit 'im 'cause he can't control his magic. My momma and daddy don't like me. They only like me 'hen I win."

The angry growling started up again. This time it was by both dragons. Instead of scaring Sting, this time it calmed him down.

"What magic does he have?"

"Rogue's got shadow magic. 'E's had it 'ince 'e was born. 'E was really 'ick, so his daddy stuck 'ometing in 'im to make 'im strong. My daddy 'ave me one too. I wasn't 'ick, 'e just wanted me to be strong. My magic is white and light."

Weisslogia turned to Skiadrum with a weird look on his face. "No," Skiadrum stated before Weisslogia could speak. "No, no, no. Absolutely not. We are not keeping them, Weisslogia! They are babies. We are dragons. Dragons cannot raise babies!"

"Grandine, Igneel, and Metalicana are doing it."

"Yes, but those are not babies. Those are children. Children can be left alone for periods of time to take care of themselves. Babies cannot. Babies need constant care."

"Look at those faces. Come on, Skiadrum. How can you say no to those faces?"

Skiadrum looked at the two little boys for a few minutes before turning back to Weisslogia. "You are on diaper duty. Permanently."

"Deal!" Weisslogia exclaimed before turning back to face Sting and Rogue. "Okay babies, let's go home!"

Sting looked down at Rogue and Rogue gazed up at Sting. The two shared a silent conversation. Rogue was scared and unsure whether it was a good idea or not to go with the dragons. Sting was telling him that they had no better plan and they seemed nice enough.

"Otay!" Sting smiled. Rogue gave him a halfhearted glare but Sting just grinned at him.

Sting stood up, turned so his back was to Rogue, and let the one-year-old hop on. He led them over to the two dragons who shared a look. "What?" Sting asked.

"How are we going to keep them stable while we fly? They're too young to hold on tight enough." Weisslogia said.

"Babies," Skiadrum sighed. "Babies are too much trouble. We'll just hold one each in our hands." He stated it in such an obvious way, like Weisslogia was dumb for not figuring it out.

Weisslogia, still hovering in the air, leaned down and cupped his hands. Sting carefully walked on and Weisslogia curled them around him and Rogue. Skiadrum took to the air and Weisslogia followed him.

They were off, flying through the sky. Sting was holding Rogue to him, the younger boy finally have fallen to sleep. With the sound of wind sailing through the sky behind him, Sting let his eyes slipped shut. They were safe. They'd recover. They were going to be okay.

Erik ran through the sandy landscape. A comforting hissing sound filled his ears from the coral snake wound around his neck. He patted her on the head softly and she hissed in content.

He could still hear the wretched screams from his evil pursuers in his mind. Even though he was at least eight miles away from them, the sound remained. They called him a freak; unnatural and wrong. He was labeled a murder because of his mother's death. That wasn't his fault. He had no control over his own birth. He didn't tell his father to implant a lacrima in him, to try and make him have power before he was even born. If the old man had been less of an utter moron, he would've known that it was a _Poison-Dragon-Slayer_ lacrima. Somehow, he wasn't killed from it. The powers actually took. Erik had insanely good hearing, the ability to control and weaponize poison in either gas or liquid form, enhanced sight and smell, and an immunity of all poisons.

The ten-year-old had finally fled his home village the night before. He was never accepted, never had any friends, but he stayed. It was his home, the only place he'd ever known. His mother had been from there and he felt closest to her there. He had to leave, though. People had been getting sick: vomiting, fever, chills, the works. They blamed Erik, accused him of poisoning the water supply. He didn't, of course, but no one would listen to him. He ran for his safety out of fear that he would be murdered in his sleep.

Melinda, wrapped around his neck, Ebony, curled around his torso, and Gerald, coiled around his left leg, came with him. Melina was a coral snake; she had been his friend for two years now and hissed at anyone that came near him. Ebony was a water moccasin; she had been his friend for only one year but she was fiercely protective and nearly struck a few idiotic villagers. Gerald, the youngest, a mere six-months-old and only male snake, was a python. He was also the only non-venomous snake Erik knew, but he was still just as dangerous. Gerald was more passive than the other two, but he still wouldn't hesitate to attack anyone that meant Erik harm.

Erik was huffing and puffing, chest heaving from exhaustion of heaving run for two hours straight. He came to a stop at a small watering hole. After letting Gerald unfurl from his leg, Erik plopped down in the sand. He cupped his hands and scooped some water up. It wasn't all that clean, and it didn't taste good, but it quenched his thirst. Gerald slithered so that he was perched on a low hanging branch near Erik's head. Ebony shifted so that she was resting on his stomach. Melinda turned so she could look straight into his eyes. They all seemed to be asking him an important question.

"I don't know what we'll do next. We can't go back but there's no other town for miles."

Ebony hissed. "Yes, I am aware you three don't need a town but I can't survive off rats or mice. I need real food and water." Ebony hissed again and he just patted her head.

They stayed resting for only ten more minutes. Erik was just standing up only to collapse to his knees in agony. He tightly clasped his hands over his ears; a grimace on his lips. The loudest, most painful noise he'd ever heard, was bearing down on him. Trembling, Erik looked up and saw a fucking dragon. A scarlet and cream fucking dragon. What the fuck?

The three snakes hissed at the gigantic beast. He grinned back at them. "How did you get all the way out here?"

Erik glared up at him. His mouth was twisted in pain still. "Be quiet!" he snarled.

The dragon, either out of shock or compliance, actually shut up. Sadly, it didn't last long. "What are you doing out in the desert? And what is your name?"

Erik scowled up at him. "I could be asking you the same question."

"But you did not. So, answer me and I will answer you."

Erik figured that a was decent trade so he answered. "Got chased out of my village. Ended up here and it's Erik. Your turn."

"The brats would not shut up. If I knew kids would be this needy, I would have taken Natsu and raised him alone. I am Igneel. It is nice to meet you."

Erik had no clue what he was talking about. He didn't really want to ask. Curiosity was a dangerous emotion. Back in his village, asking the wrong thing would provoke punishment. By punishment he meant a beating.

The nine-year-old clamped his hands back over his ears and stood up. The dragon had been ranting to himself for a couple minutes and Erik decided to leave. This was just to fucking weird. His three snakes assumed their original positions as he walked away.

"Hey! Stop walking away!" the dragon bellowed.

Erik fell to his knees and curled into fetal position. A warm wet liquid leaked from his ears as he writhed in agony. Igneel shut his trap and landed. Sadly, the heavy legs hitting the ground was just as, if not louder than his bellowing had been. Igneel's wings closed into his side with a snap. Finally silence set it, save for the beating of their hearts and rushing of their blood. Surprisingly enough, the loud thump, thump, thump, of his heart was calming.

After a few minutes, Erik could uncurl and look up. Igneel sat on the ground. He was looking down at Erik in unmasked concern. "What?" the kid croaked.

"Why do loud noises hurt you so much?"

"Something 'bout my magic. Makes my senses, mostly my hearing, super intense."

"What magic do you possess?"

"Poison-Dragon-Slayer magic."

"I have known a few poison dragons eons ago. Sadly, they are all extinct now. I may not be able to teach you anything about your magic, but I can offer you a place to live with more slayers. They do not have the same element you do, but it could be nice to spend time with people your own age who understand what it is like to possess such power."

Erik stared up at the dragon in shock. "You want me to go live with you? A nine-year-old kid? And interact with other kids who somehow have this type of magic too? Why? I thought you were just complaining how there were to many brats in the first place."

"It is obvious you have nowhere else to go, and I would hate to see someone go off on the wrong path when I could help them. Besides, you said you are nine. We could use another older kid to help with Sting, Rogue, and even Natsu."

Erik didn't ask who those people were, he didn't care. There was no way he'd go with Igneel. It didn't seem like Igneel would take no for an answer. He picked Erik up in one hand, closing it around the boy and his three snakes, then took to the air.

Igneel ignored Erik shouting swears up at him. The damn beast had made up his mind. It seemed like Erik would be in for a long ride. Great, that's just great.

The tiny baby wailed. Her little lungs expanded, taking in more than the usual amount of air, before releasing it in a heartfelt cry. The four-month-old was scared. She was hungry and lost. Before she had closed her eyes momma and dada had been there, now she was surrounded by green poky things. She felt higher up than usual. It was really cold too. Cold bursts of air kept pushing against her.

She remembered noise before she had fallen asleep. Loud booms and crashing sounds. The sky would get bright and then dark again. Momma and dada had been talking. The little girl didn't know what they were saying, though. She could tell they were worried. They held her tighter than usual and kissed her cheeks more often. The baby had a bad feeling that she would never see her parents again. It was terrifying. The worst part was that it seemed to be true.

She flailed her tiny fists around and screeched out another cry. Another cold rush pushed against her skin and the baby shivered. She tried rolling onto her stomach, to see if she could see momma or dada that way, and fell. Somehow, her screams grew louder. They hurt her little ears but she didn't care about that.

Before she could fall more than a foot, a huge white paw scooped under her body. It was a surprisingly light landing, and the small baby blinked in confusion.

"Oh dear child, how did you end up here?"

The baby babbled nonsense. She tried to tell the beast, but it seemed like they didn't speak the same language.

The beast tutted. The baby snuggled onto the squishy surface of her paw. She liked this creature. It reminded her of momma and dada.

"It does not appear as if anyone from your village survived the storm. Poor child. I shall take you to the closest village that remained unaffected."

The baby sniffled unhappily. She didn't want to lose new momma like she lost old momma. She opened her mouth to start crying again, but instead sneezed. Those cold bursts of air came from her little body. The beast's feathers danced around them.

The beast rumbled soothingly. "How can someone so young have such power?" she asked herself. "I cannot leave you with ordinary humans. You are much too powerful for them to care for. The only logical choice is for me to take you. When you grow older, I can teach you what I know about Sky-Magic."

The baby clapped her tiny hands. She knew what that meant. She was going with new-momma. The beast cupped her paw around the baby so she would be secure in flight.

Powerful wing beats took them into the air. The final Dragon-Slayer child was going home.


End file.
